Not a Necromancer
by Newtinmpls
Summary: Some people get uncomfortable when you talk to dead people. Not that dead dunmer are easy to talk to anyway. Rated T for future romance. Rirns Uveran is also present, but since he dies rather immediately, I didn't bother trying to add his name.
1. Chapter 1

Author's note:

_Rirns Uveran was not originally part of Boss Crito's gang in the computer version of Morrowind, but in my universe (DMed by someone who loved the world) when the legion hired a certain party to take out a group of smugglers holed up in a cave called Nissintu, he survived, being more than what he seemed. A lot more, actually, but it didn't save him in the end. _

**Standard disclaimer: I do not own Morrowind, or any of the other wondrous creations of Bethesda Softworks, however I certainly lay claim to misspellings, mistakes, tweaks and characters of my own creation.**

Tallis took a half step back, trying to gauge which angle the dark elf's sword would come down at her. She was watching his chest more than his eyes, so when he suddenly hesitated, she could see the reason for it. The point of sword tip was protruding from the stomach of her foe.

Behind him stood Kroc, the hilt of his nearly four foot weapon held lightly in one taloned hand.

"Rirns Uveran, you are under arrest for smuggling." The Argonian's gravelly voice was solemn, and it echoed among the remains of the long still dwemer mechanisms. "Sentence to be carried out now."

The expression slowly faded from the dunmer's face and he slumped to his knees, sliding forward off of the sword. Blood poured down his legs, soaking the dark wool of his leggings.

Kroc pulled his sword the rest of the way out of the body, and casually knelt and wiped the blade off on the sleeve of the dead dunmer.

"The sentence is death." The last word echoed in the suddenly silent hall.

"You didn't give him a chance to surrender." Tallis said quietly.

A sarcastic voice answered from where Arenea lay on the floor; Gealdol's hands were at work layering a poultice just above her hip. "If it was you he stabbed would you still be so sympathetic?" Tallis knew that Arenea would have normally added a number of choice dunmeri curses, but Gaeldol's efforts to bandage her were occupying most of her attention.

Ignoring Arenea's comment, Kroc said. "He was a smuggler. He knew the penalty for his criminal actions."

Tallis knelt beside the body, which lay face down. "Help me turn him over."

Kroc took a step back, and the crest of spines on the back of his head rose slightly. "Tallis." His tone was a warning.

"Don't help her." Arenea snapped from where she lay. A dark four-legged figure approached her, tail wagging. "Tallis leave that body alone and come and get your dog."

Tallis ignored the comments. She pushed at the dark elf so that he was lying on his back. Scooting forward, she lifted his head, so that when she sat, her right thigh pillowed his head.

The dark elf lay, head on her lap, sightless eyes staring upwards. The flow of blood from his wounds had slowed. Tallis could feel that the warmth was leaving his body.

She put her hands to the side of his face. "Don't go yet." She whispered.

Behind her, Sekou asked. "Do you want me to try and interrupt her spell?" He already had his bow drawn, muscles rippling under his dark skin.

"Yes." Said Kroc, who had backed up to the wall and was standing, sword drawn, crest fully erect.

"No." the shout came simultaneously from both Arenea and Gaeldol.

Arenea added. "Not unless you want to chance that the spell goes completely berserk and raises an arm of angry zombies."

Sekou backed away from Tallis to stand near Kroc. Slowly he let the tension on the string go. "You mean if something goes wrong that could happen?"

Arenea sighed sarcastically. "It's only as likely as my misfire of a cold spell damaging every single damn area on my entire body, that's all."

"Satakal." Sekou muttered.

"Come back." Tallis whispered, and she gently caressed the sides of the dead elf's face. "Come back and talk to me."

The body of the dunmer gave a shudder, and it suddenly took a harsh, gurgling breath. The eyes suddenly focused on Tallis.

Sekou backed rapidly away.

"Outlander." The dunmer's voice was much harsher in death than it had been in life.

"The first thing I have to tell you is that you are dead." Tallis kept stroking the dunmer's cooling cheek as she spoke. "In just a little bit your soul will go where ever you're supposed to go."

The dead dunmer's red eyes narrowed. "Then why are you talking to me?"

"You have been working for a very bad man. Boss Crito is," Tallis struggled to find a suitably evocative description, but gave it up – there wasn't time. "Well, he's evil. So I'm giving you a chance to do a good thing to try and balance that out."

"Also," She said earnestly, "I'm offering you a deal. I'll deliver one message for you. You can have a chance to have your last words go to who you want them to. Tell me something about Boss Crito that will help me fight him. What's his favorite spell? What kind of magics does he work? Tell me something useful and I promise I'll deliver your message."

Sweat was beginning to gather on her forehead and there was a tremble to her fingers as she kept caressing him.

The red eyes gazed speculatively at her for a long moment. She was on the verge of telling him to hurry up when he finally spoke.

"Breton." He said in that harsh, dead voice.

She nodded slightly, wanting him to hurry, but not wanting to interrupt him now that he was actually talking.

"You are her. You are Tallis, aren't you?"

If he'd been alive, she might have been able to tell if he meant to be admiring or insulting, but dead people, especially early on in her spell process, were harder to read, and dunmer could be damn inscrutable even while alive.

"Yes, I'm Tallis." She said, hoping that would be enough to prompt him to go on. A drop of sweat trickled down the side of her face.

The elves eyes tracked the bead of sweat, and then met her gaze again. "So where do you think my spirit will go?"

Tallis frowned in thought. It was certainly a legitimate question for someone in his position. "Well, you are Dunmer. You might stay and protect your family. Or you might go to Oblivion to be with your ancestral Daedra. Or maybe Azura or someone has a job for you." She thought about it. "Or you might be ready for a more peaceful incarnation, so you might come back as a tree or a Kwama Queen."

The dead elf looked speculatively at her. "Interesting."

"Just because you're dead doesn't mean you don't have choices." Said Tallis. "Or responsibilities." A slight shiver went through her.

"Tell Forin Gilneth the sixth gate is open."

"Forin Gilneth." Tallis' voice trailed off. She could feel her cheeks redden as the dead dunmer stared at her.

"I know you'll deliver that message." Dead or not, he sounded smug.

"And Boss Crito?"

"Boss Crito has a companion that is some sort of wind spirit."

Tallis' eyes half closed and a shiver went through her. "Deal." She said softly.

"Goodbye, Breton."

"Goodbye Rirns Uveran." Whispered Tallis. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to the dead man's forehead.

A shudder went through the body. Tallis wiped her eyes with her right sleeve and took a long breath. Then she struggled to extricate her from the abruptly stiff corpse.

Sekou and Krock looked at each other and moved a little bit farther away from her.

"It's stiff now." Kroc muttered. "Isn't it a little…" He tightened his grip on the hilt of his weapon. "A little deader than it should be now?"

"Yeah." Tallis shrugged. "I was slowing him down a little, so when he went, he went faster." She got to her feet slowly, and stumbled a little. Kroc took another step away from her. Odin came and pressed gently against her, and she put a hand on his back to balance herself.

"Good boy." She said.

He wagged his tail.

Kroc walked slowly over, crest still erected, and prodded the now stiff corpse with his sword. "The way you talked to him. The way you touched him." His voice was midway between curiosity and disgust. "A dead body."

Tallis sighed. "He is a person. Now he's dead, but he's still himself." She looked up at Kroc. "Boss Crito's brother was a jerk. Dead or alive, he was still a jerk, so I treated him that way." She turned back to the dead Dunmer. "I gave this one a chance, and he chose to help us."

"That's still necromancy." Kroc said.

Tallis closed her eyes. With an effort, she said gently. "No. Necromancers are fixated on warping the natural process of death. I just change the speed of some parts of the cycle – and it's the whole cycle I work with, not just the death part of it."

Kroc grunted.

Well, thought Tallis. At least he didn't take a swing at me this time.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note:

_Forin Gilnith is initially encountered in Seyda Neen, where he seems to be a fisherman with a rather murderous temper. Lots of things in Morrowind are not what they seem. At this point what Tallis knows about him is that he's skilled, dangerous, smart and has at least one apprentice of sorts, a dunmer named Lliam. _

**Standard disclaimer: I do not own Morrowind, or any of the other wondrous creations of Bethesda Softworks, however I certainly lay claim to misspellings, mistakes, tweaks and characters of my own creation.**

Tallis stepped into the room, trying to make it look like she belonged here. It was bare; just a bed in far left corner, a fireplace in the center of the wall that was laid, not lit; with enough visible dust to imply that it had not been lit for some time. In the wall to the right was a window, and in front of it a table and two chairs. Neither was pulled out. Along the wall to her right was a wardrobe, closed, and hooks for some cloaks.

The whole place looked totally unlived in.

"Thank you." She handed the man a couple of coins and walked over toward the table. "I'll just wait for him."

"Bless you." The tone was slightly surprised. Oops, she'd probably over tipped. Well it was a better mistake than under-tipping.

The door closed behind her.

She stopped where she was, and stood still in the center of the room. Forin was pretty skilled, and if he really had stayed here for a while, he'd probably trapped the place. Heck, he was very skilled, and if he'd been there for more than half an hour, he'd almost certainly trapped the place.

She sighed. The table and chairs were clearly too potentially dangerous to sit in. The fireplace had to be totally off limits.

She moved toward the wardrobe, and leaned against the wall. She brushed against something dark and soft. A wool cloak, so dark that it blended right in against the mahogany wood of the wardrobe. Warm, probably.

She stayed there a long moment, and her eyes began to close. It was late. She was tired. When would Forin get back? She really had no way of knowing.

The softness of the cloak gave her an idea, though. The place least likely to be trapped was the bed. And if she just sat on it, she probably would have the least chance of triggering anything. She could wait there till he got in. And maybe rest just a bit.

She took the cloak, carefully not opening it. She climbed onto the bed, lay against the wall, and dragged the cloak over her. Probably not particularly subtle, but it was warm.

Really warm.

Her eyes closed.

When she opened her eyes, it was to warm sunlight. She was dreaming, and she knew she was dreaming. Green soft grass spread in every direction, and just behind her was a large tree that covered the blanket she was sitting on in dappled shade. Beside her was a large basket, and set out before her was a bottle, two goblets and a wheel of tempting looking cheese.

"I like this dream." She said to herself.

"You would." A low rumble of a voice answered her. Sitting cross-legged on the blanket with her was Forin Gilnith. "It's too bright here."

"It's a dream." Tallis chided him. "Here, you want more shade, then let's have some shade." She looked up in the sky and concentrated, and grey clouds boiled into existence and covered the sky. For a moment, it got cooler, but she concentrated, wanting to keep the warmth.

Forin raised an eyebrow.

She shrugged. "It's a dream. I can do anything I want."

She reached for the bottle, and easily, happily pulled the cork out. "Not something I could do in real life." She murmured. Then she poured out a little into one of the goblets. "This however, might be tricky."

"What are you talking about, Breton?" Forin sounded annoyed.

"Well, I don't have much experience with wine." She confessed. "But I had this really vivid dream where I was a Chimer, and I was," She felt herself coloring slightly. This was a dream, she ought to be able to not blush. "Anyway, I was with somebody and we were having this special wine for lovers."

She took a sip, and then frowned. "But I can't really remember the taste, except that I liked it."

Forin snorted. "Give me the bottle, Breton." Taking it, he murmured. "If shaping dreams is as easy as you claim" He eyed her significantly, "Then this should be no trouble. You are talking about Shein." He poured some into her glass. It was darker then hers had been, and smelled richer. "Try that."

She sipped it. It was as good as she remembered. Better than she'd remembered. "That's it." she closed her eyes in appreciation.

He half filled the other glass, and sipped. After a moment, he said. "Good enough."

Tallis opened her eyes. "You dunmer." She sighed. "You just don't look on the bright side of things much, do you?" She waved a hand. "A beautiful dream. Nice wine. Probably really good cheese." she smiled. "I have a really good memory for cheese." She fished around in the picnic basket and found a sharp knife. She cut off a slice and bit into it.

She smiled. "Real cheese." then she looked pointedly at him. "As in it came from a cow."

He made a sound like a growl. "You Imperials and your cows."

"Try some." she held out a slice.

"I don't like cows." He frowned at the cheese, and it evaporated out of her hand. After a moment he looked up at her. "If only things I want are in this dream, then why are you here?" His voice dropped almost a full octave on the word 'you' and it sent pleasant shivers up and down her spine.

Tallis smiled. "I really like your voice. When you get angry, it gets all low and shivery."

His eyes narrowed. "You are even more irritating here than you are when I'm awake."

Tallis lifted her chin. "All you dunmer are much too repressed. It's a dream, Forin. You could actually be nice to me and no one would ever know."

He snorted.

"I mean it. Look at you. You live a long, long time and you're just angry and dark all the time. Have some fun." She waved her hands around. "If you aren't willing to relax when you are awake, then at least do it here."

He leaned back against a suddenly convenient boulder. "Do what?" His tone was sharp.

She wondered if he ever relaxed. Probably not. "Do what you want." He was so stubborn.

"Go away."

Well, she could be stubborn too. She stuck her tongue out at him. "No."

He growled and stared at her.

"Have some fun. It's a dream. Improve something." She pointed to the blanket, and it became a quilt embroidered with yellow and green flowers. "I like flowers, don't you?"

"Breton." He shook his head slightly. "Have the courtesy to leave this dream, since I can't seem to banish you. Or perhaps just stop talking."

"Now you're just being mean." She pouted slightly.

He sighed. "Well then at least put your hair up."

There was a rustling feeling, and then Tallis was aware of a gentle breeze against the side of her neck. She hesitantly raised her right hand to touch her hair. It was gathered up in some complicated braiding or something.

She hadn't realized that he could do that in this dream.

"Why would I want my hair up?" She asked uncertainly.

He shook his head. "Breton, you just went to great pains to tell me this dream is about what I want."

He reached out and gently touched the side of your neck. "If you are going to be in this dream, then I want your hair up."

She hadn't realized that he was that close. Well, of course he hadn't been a moment ago. And her dress hadn't been this red a moment ago. Or this revealing.

"Um." She said, looking down at herself.

Forin smiled, just slightly. "So it seems there may be a way to get you to stop talking after all."

She looked up and he was close. Really close. And little goose bumps seemed to be spreading from the light touch of his fingertips on her neck.

She would have said something. She was just about to say something, but somehow being this close to him made her feel like there suddenly wasn't any air to speak with. Then he leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers. A light touch. A whisper of sensation. She felt tingly and strange, and he tasted slightly of Shein.

He pulled slightly away.

She said. "I."

"Shhh." He said, and kissed her again.

She felt like she was melting, or like she was on fire, and suddenly she was aware of the feel of his hands on her skin, caressing, moving around to her back. Which meant she wasn't wearing anything, at least on her top.

She pulled her lips away from his long enough to whisper breathlessly. "What are you doing?"

Forin's hands roamed delicately over her abdomen, and he took advantage of her comment to bite gently at her lower lip. He whispered back. "What I want."

Then he captured her mouth with his again. Tallis felt dizzy, and hungry and a lot of other things that she didn't have names for. She put her hands against his chest and realized that he wasn't wearing any shirt either. Not any more.

She wasn't sure if it was his doing or hers. She was pretty sure that this was going too far. But she couldn't seem to pull away from his lips on hers.

Then came a crashing sound Pottery falling and breaking.

She opened her eyes to see a dark form lying in front of her. Her left arm was out, her hand curled slightly against a fold in the blanket that was covering the chest of the Dunmer that was facing her, opening his eyes to focus on her. His expression went from interest, to surprise, to fury.

Forin Gilneth. She was laying on Forin Gilneth's bed, in his hotel room. Sunlight streaming into the room told her that it had to be at least eight or nine in the morning. His cloak was still across her. Her heart was still hammering from the dream, and she still felt, well, a lot of things.

She'd cast the spell intending to share a dream with him a while back; but it had never taken effect, and she'd stopped thinking about it. Apparently sometimes the effects were delayed. Or maybe they had been on different sleep schedules. Or maybe it went into effect when they were in close physical proximity. And he was still very close.

She sat up, pulling away from him. If she could have just scooted directly back, she would have, but there was a wall behind her. "For god's sakes, this is an Inn. You're an assassin. Why would you just lay down on a bed that already has someone in it?"

"And what, Breton, would you be doing in my room?" He sat up slowly. She noted two things. The first, which didn't surprise her, was the glint of steel in his right hand. The second, which did, was that when he moved, the covers fell away to reveal his bare chest.

She felt out of breath; and the memory of how he'd kissed her in the dream suddenly felt all too vivid and familiar. She looked up to meet his gaze again, and realized that he must have just said something.

"What?" She asked, trying to sound confident, or at least not as nervous as she felt.

The door opened, and a surprised masculine chuckle stalled whatever Forin might have been about to say.

She looked to the doorway. Lliam stood there, looking highly amused. He said to Forin. "Oh, are you having a little something for breakfast? Have I interrupted you?" The tone was mocking, but Tallis could tell there was an undertone of affection.

From the way Forin's arm tensed, he was about a moment or so from throwing whatever blade he'd concealed at the door. Which would probably be a mistake. He was probably just angry at being interrupted.

Tallis put a hand on Forin's, being careful to keep the blanket between them. She turned to the doorway. "Interesting greeting." She said in an unfriendly voice. She let all the nervousness she felt edge her tone. "It's what, only eight or so in the morning, and you take it upon yourself to taunt a mage", she flickered a gaze at Forin, who was still frowning. "And," she paused, rather than just say 'an assassin' out loud, "someone else."

She stared at the man in the doorway. "You must be very confident of your skills."

Forin said nothing, but she could feel the fury radiating off of him, and she was glad that he had a target other than herself to aim it at.

Lliam swallowed. "I, uh."

Tallis said very quietly. "Maybe you want to start this conversation over again."

"I'll just be downstairs." He glanced very quickly at Forin. "In case you might want to talk about anything. Plans, I mean." He backed out of the room, and carefully closed the door.

Before Forin could say something else, she said. "I came here because I have a message for you. It's from Rirns Uveran." She slowly started moving herself down the bed to the foot of it. It wasn't graceful, but it was probably better than just staring at his bare chest.

He said nothing as she got herself to the edge of the bed and stood up.

"He said to tell you the sixth gate is open."

For a moment, nothing, and then Forin said, in a slow and careful voice. "He told you what?"

"The sixth gate is open."

"He would have died before he'd discuss that with you."

Tallis raised an eyebrow. Now she was on more comfortable ground. "He did, actually. He only had the chance to talk with me after we'd killed him. I slowed his death and said that I'd do something for him if he did something for me."

Forin slid out of bed to the side, carefully pulling the sheet out from under the blanket and wrapping it around him so that it hung from his waist. Which meant that he probably didn't sleep with any sort of clothing on.

If Tallis had worried about blushing before, it was a lost cause now. Her face actually felt hot.

He tucked in the top of the sheet at his waist and said. "So you are a necromancer."

"No I'm not." She almost screamed it. "My god, I can't even count how many darn people worry about necromancy this and necromancy that. I work with the entire cycle of life. It's a lot of things. It's growing, it's motion, yes it's dying but that's like saying," She waved her hands as she thought rapidly. "It's like saying that someone who is really really skilled as a lover is 'a good kisser'."

She was aware of his gaze on her, but she wasn't going to stop talking. "I mean anyway nobody kisses that well in real life." Oh gods, what had she just said. "I didn't mean to say that. And anyway, that's your message. And I'm not a necromancer."

She looked down at the dress she was wearing. If she'd known that Lliam going to see them, she would have worn one of the ones she'd enchanted to give off an ominous sort of feel. Just her sitting on the bed with Forin was not really the message she would have wanted to send. "And I was wearing the wrong dress. I should have changed last night, but I didn't think about it. I could have been a lot more intimidating to Lliam. Sorry about that."

"Breton, you never do stop talking, do you." It wasn't really a question, and Forin walked past her to open the wardrobe. Standing partly behind the wardrobe door, he let the sheet drop.

Tallis got just a glimpse of his backside, and then quickly turned so that she was facing the bed. He had a really nice backside.

He didn't seem to feel the need to say anything. So she kept talking.

"See, I know that it's not a good idea for you to be seen with me. Because people see me and they think 'oh it's a little Breton', and that I'm all not scary and stuff. So I'm working on enchanting some of my clothing, and well, some other things, so that when people see me they will also be seeing some of what I can do, some energies and things, and I'll seem more scary and they will worry."

"And you are telling me this why?"

"Well, I like you."

There was no answer to that, and Tallis continued hastily. "You are this dangerous assassin person, and you can't afford to be seen with someone who seems really, well, soft and safe."

"I'm an assassin?"

She threw up her hands. "By the nine, you killed about a dozen expert legionnaires in five minuets that I know of. You are a really skilled assassin."

He made a disapproving sound. "If you are referring to the incident in Ebonhart, it was seven over enthusiastic rather poorly trained recruits. And it was less than two minutes." His voice was very soft, and came from just behind her. She could feel the warmth of him. He was probably dressed. She could probably turn around. Or maybe it was better not to.

"I," She was so aware of his presence that she couldn't concentrate on what to say. "I think." She thought he had a really nice chest. She thought he was a really good kisser in that dream. Those were not things she wanted to say out loud.

"I have to go." She said, and not looking, not caring if she was giving the hallway a glimpse of him, she darted to the door and fled.

He watched her go, and slowly shut the door behind her.

"Nobody." He said softly. His tone was smug.


End file.
